


A New Life, My Prince

by Blaise_On_Melancholy_Hill



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe- Mages and Middle Ages, Bodyguard Liam Payne, Bottom Zayn, Fluff, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Mage Liam Payne, Mentions of Church and Apostate Mages, Mentions of Religion and Gods- no Particular Ones, Mentions of Slavery, Prince Zayn Malik, Sexual Themes, Slow Burn(sort of), Top Liam, Violence, blood/gore, explicit content, mentions of abuse
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-06-14
Updated: 2020-07-11
Packaged: 2021-03-03 22:20:50
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 7,160
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24722953
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Blaise_On_Melancholy_Hill/pseuds/Blaise_On_Melancholy_Hill
Summary: This is the new, rewritten version of "My Life for You, My Prince"!!He almost couldn't believe this. How could the prince have possibly chosen him over the half dozen others that had been led in with him? Any one of them would be a better candidate than Liam could ever be, what could the prince be thinking?
Relationships: Zayn Malik/Liam Payne
Comments: 10
Kudos: 26





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [My Life for You, My Prince](https://archiveofourown.org/works/17757509) by [Blaise_On_Melancholy_Hill](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Blaise_On_Melancholy_Hill/pseuds/Blaise_On_Melancholy_Hill). 



> Honestly, I rushed the first version of this story, putting out my first draft of it- then again all I have are first drafts lol. I have read it over again and although there's lots of people that seem to love it, I absolutely hate my first try at this story and I really want to give it a rewrite and make it into the epic that I wanted it to be in the first place. Hopefully this will be better, and I will be more pleased with it than the first one. Please, let me know what you think of it! I really must know if it's better or if it's just as mediocre as the first version.

The walls rose high over the dusty pathway, the stone towering above the heads of the small group that was making their way through the ornate gateway to the grounds of the palace. Guards walked rigidly at the front and back of the line, one hand wrapped firm around the shafts of their spears, the other looped through the thick leather binding of their shields. No one paid any attention to their escorts though, most of them gazing in wonderment at the lush garden and stone paved pathways that they were led through. Except one that is.

Toward the front of the group, one man hung his head, staring straight toward the dirt between his filthy bare feet. He had been chastised and punished too often for raising his head that he wasn't sure what was around him anymore. He followed the footsteps before him, walking in tandem with the other man's steps, falling in stride with him easily. He should be working right now, head bent over his task, his arms aching with the weight of the silver bindings around his wrists- it was the only way he would get any food tonight. 

As it was, he had pretty well accepted that tonight would be another hungry, uncomfortable night for him- even though it hadn't been any choice of his own to come along on this fruitless venture. Nobody in their right mind would ever choose an apostate mage as their closest personal guard, it was a running joke that he was here in this line in the first place. The palace guards had laughed at his mistress, shaking their heads as she suggested that they took him with them. She had always been too sweet for her own good, soothing the hurt while her husband ran his estate with an iron fist- or the whip.

Something she had said had made them consider though, and here he was on his way toward the palace to be put in line with some of the strongest warriors of the entire city. One of which would most likely be chosen before he could even be appraised. Regardless of that, he just followed after the man in front of him, looking up for only a moment as the stone walkway rather suddenly turned to smooth grey marble covered in an expensive looking, purple silk carpet. 

He let himself look around for but a few moments, taking in some of the lavish decorations and the high stone and marble walls. It was a beautiful place really, the most expensive place he had ever stepped foot in for sure. The dark marble clashed nicely with the sandy stone colour of the rest of the walls as they spanned upwars. The ceilings vaulted high into shadows many feet above his head, bright red and purple tapestries hung on polished poles hanging from high above the floor, though nearly reaching the polished surface. Vases of flowers sat on tables and plush looking chairs sat in open rooms beyond wooden doors with iron handles. 

It was the most incredible thing he had ever seen, and if he hadn't caught the eye of a guard that he and the group passed by, he would have let himself embellish in the beauty for just a few seconds longer. He dropped his gaze though, straight to the floor between his feet to take in the patterns on the carpet instead. He let himself be hearded with the group further into the palace, passing through one of those ornate doors to where they stopped in a mostly empty room. 

He was instructed to kneel along with everyone else, and he shifted to rest his left knee on the floor, keeping his gaze down on the floor and his hands crossed over his knee like everyone else. He listened to the instructions from the guards over the harsh sound of his heartbeat in his ears, nervousness beginning to overtake him. He was about to be in the presence of royalty for the first and most likely last time ever. He couldn't help but be anxious and even a little excited, he'd experience first hand what they were all about. 

He had been so lost in his thoughts that he almost didn't realize that the door had opened and a pair of bare feet had just padded slowly past him. His breath caught in his chest, his body tensing lightly at the sudden still silence that had passed over the room. Nobody dared to speak a word in front of the crowned prince, even the guards held their tongue lest they offend in some way.

Those bare feet (which he belatedly noticed were sporting a bright reddish paint on the nails) passed by once more, going the opposite way, this time somewhat more quickly as if the choices had already been silently narrowed down. Once more the prince padded back, pausing just by somebody to his left before- 

The prince had come to a halt, right in front of him and seemed to be regarding him quietly. "Mage?" 

"Ye-yes M'lord?" The words were broken and breathy, showing just how many days it had been since he had last spoken properly and there was a pause. 

"Would you stand for me, mualin?" The prince asked and just why he had used a variation of a word meaning friend was beyond the grasp of the man at his feet. 

He was listening to the request before he could quite register, pushing himself to his feet without reply, so used to following order as it was that it took just a suggestion. 

"Tell me your name." 

"Liam..." Slow off his tongue came the sound of his own name as if it had been caught up in molasses. "M'lord."

"If promised a bed to rest, good treatment and a hot meal each night would you lay your life for me?" 

Somebody nearby drew breath with the question and Liam felt something binding about it in the moments before he answered. Some part of him was sure that a negative reply would mean going back to his current master to be worked to the bone every day and so worn at night he could sleep soundly even on the stone floor. He hadn't had a bed since he was young, it had been many years since he had had any comfort living. 

"I would." 

An end to the pain, a promise of good treatment was the only thing he could cling to now. He could only hope that it wasn't a lie or a trick of some kind that the prince would ask for him and not someone with more reputation and experience. 

Something brushed against Liam's arm and he almost didn't have time to stop himself from looking up, averting his gaze just as it reached the gold threading of the prince's robe near his chest. Soft hands slipped over his arm, fingertips tracing over the runes of his binding cuffs, feeling out the grooves in the silver metal. 

"Such power..." The words were quiet, spoken in that same gentle, honeyed tone that the prince had used this entire time. "Where did you learn your magics?"

The question unwittingly brought with it a lifetime of pain and Liam squeezed his eyes closed as he forced himself to answer. "My- my mother. Before I was taken by the church and placed in the Holy Order, she taught me..." 

He could still hear her screams, the shrill sound of her voice as she begged for her life- the sound of her choking on her own blood as her throat was slit from ear to ear. A hand in her hair held her head aloft as her body went limp, a laughing voice asking Liam if he wished to say his last goodbyes. Their eyes had met and Liam- at the time a mere six or so years old, had watched the life drain from her face with the blood that had so quickly layered over the soft forest floor. 

She had been left there like that, crumpled in a heap in a pool of her own blood- no burial to respect her body or set her soul to rest. Sometimes Liam could swear he could still hear her voice whispering to him, encouraging him. 

"The Holy Order?" The prince questioned, seeming pleasantly surprised. "Then you must be a practised socerer." 

"I was," Liam replied softly. "I had been accused of... something which I hadn't done and I was bound- silenced and sent to Lord Bastian's estate to work... until old age or pain of death take me."

"Hm... and what sort of work did you do? Mostly manual labour? Would you say that you could handle a weapon with training?"

"I... I was mostly just a labourer yes," Liam said softly. "Anything I was told to do would be done. With some training- I could handle a weapon again."

"Oh yes- I'm sure you were taught a basic amount of combat with the Holy Order. I will teach you proper swordplay though." 

Those soft hands released their hold on Liam's wrist, one of them gesturing for him to follow. "Come with me." 

He stumbled to follow the command, glancing up just enough to watch the prince's footsteps, following him out of the room and back down that lavish hallway. He almost couldn't believe this. How could the prince have possibly chosen him over the half dozen others that had been led in with him? Any one of them would be a better candidate than Liam could ever be, what could the prince be thinking? 

Maybe it was something about his magics that the prince was interested in, but only the church could remove the binding wards from his cuffs to remove them. They wouldn't do that though, regardless of how much prestige the prince had. As far as they were concerned, Liam was just an apostate- no matter how wrongful the accusation against him was. 

He had had the trust of the archdeacon at one point, and he had excelled at anything and everything he was asked to do. He had the confidence of the gods on his side and at one point he had been quite charming, though over the past years that had been beaten and whipped out of him until he was just a shell of his former self. He had been quiet for so long he hadn't been sure he would be able to speak when the prince had addressed him, but thankfully it seemed like he hadn't lost absolutely everything yet. 

He nearly stumbled to a halt as the prince rather suddenly took a right turn down another hallway, and Liam lost him for a moment, turning abruptly to follow. The prince had paused, seemingly noticing his momentary lapse of attention. 

"This way. We're nearly there," He promised as Liam caught up with him, continuing to follow him down the hall. 

The prince took one more turn, this one a left that led them to the end of a short, dimly lit hallway that ended in a doorway that the prince pushed open. Liam stepped through, closing the door gently behind himself before he finally let himself lift his gaze from the floor, just to look around the room that he would be housed in. It was richly decorated as well, much like the rest of the palace. Everything was a beautiful red or purple hue, tapestries hanging from the walls, silken cloths draped elegantly overtop of the wooden dressers that held beautifully put together vases full of flowers. 

A large, soft looking bed was in the centre of the room, the posts of it rising high toward the ceiling, more silken curtains hanging around the top of it. The little beads along the edges of it jingled gently as the prince moved to seat himself on the edge of the mattress. Liam didn't even get a look at his face before his eyes were automatically finding the floor again. 

"The door across is to the bathing room," The prince said softly, and Liam turned his head a little to glance toward the mentioned doorway. "And I don't have a mattress for you yet, but I have had a server bring a bed roll for you. It's in that wardrobe there. I've even set out a place for you to sleep."

The prince gestured toward a few soft looking pillows that had been laid out on the floor just between the exit door and the side of the bed- closer to the bed. Of course the prince would want Liam there, he realized belatedly. If he was supposed to be like some kind of bodyguard, then it only made sense that he would even sleep between the prince and any sort of potential danger. 

"I'd like for you to get your bed roll set up so it's comfortable for you, and then I have already had a servant bring some water to fill the tub. You will bathe and change from those rags and I'll give you dinner before you rest for tonight. Tomorrow we will have a busy day."

Liam just listened, becoming more and more surprised with every word. A bath, a full dinner, new clothes and his own bed space? He must've died out in the fields this morning and this was all just a dream, or maybe he had actually ascended to heaven. He must've. 

"Go on." 

The prince's prompting had Liam moving before he really knew what he was doing. He knew where everything was and he knew the order in which the prince wanted him to do things, so with that in mind, he went about completing his tasks in a mechanical, automatic kind of way. After grabbing the thick, fur lined bed roll, Liam crossed to exactly where the prince seemed to have chosen for him to sleep. He moved the pillows around, finding a decently thick blanket folded beneath them that he was obviously supposed to use. He laid out the bed roll and settled the pillows overtop of it so he could lay on top of all of them with the blanket overtop of all of that. 

If he had done anything incorrectly, the prince didn't say as Liam stood to cross the room toward the bathing room. "M-M'lord?"

"Hm?" This was hummed softly in question and although it wasn't a proper answer, Liam assumed he could speak freely. 

"What- what of my new clothing?"

"I will bring it to you when you're finished. Nothing to be shy over."

Of course. It wasn't as though Liam really had anything to worry about. The prince was just as much of a man as Liam was, there was no need for timidness, no need to hide the form that the gods had so proudly given him. He just nodded, gaze cast off to the side for a moment before he turned to pad into the other room,closing the door gently behind himself. 

Once in the presence of that blissfully warm looking water, Liam wasted no time in stripping off every stitch of clothing, just tossing everything onto a low bench by one side of the door. He crossed toward the large tub, trailing his fingertips through the hot water as he approached. He was normally only allowed to wash at the same time as the other slaves and even then the mage had always been at the bottom of any sort of hierarchy. By the time he normally got to that bowl of water it was icy cold and browned with use- so this was going to be a welcome change. 

The steam warmed him as Liam moved to lean over the tub, settling one hand on the edge of it to keep his balance as he stepped in. He couldn't keep in the little hiss he let out as he stepped fully into the water- which honestly was just a little too hot, but he would never complain. Shifting to sit back slowly, the groan that automatically fell from Liam's lips was louder than he had anticipated, but this just felt so _good_.

The water was already turning sort of murky, but Liam was going to spend as much time in here as he possibly could. There were soaps and other things lining a small shelf on the wall just above the edge of the tub, and Liam reached for one of the pots to take it down, opening up the top of it. There had to be something heavenly in there too, it smelled absolutely beautiful- better than anything Liam had had the pleasure to use before. He went through each of the little clay pots and the hard bars of soap, taking his time with this. 

Finally though, he used a bar of the best smelling soap and a rough piece of cloth to begin scrubbing with. The water quickly began to go a grungy sort of brackish brown, but for the first time in- he couldn't quite remember, Liam could see the true tanned colour of his skin, not just the grey and brown streaks of dirt. He wetted his hair, using the same bar of soap for that too- though he had to wash twice before he was finally pleased with it, able to freely slip his fingers through the locks without catching on pieces where the strands had been plastered together by sweat and grease.

When he finished, Liam felt loads better, feeling almost like a new man as he stepped out of the tub to dry off with a couple of woven towels. He caught a movement just out of the corner of his eye and he paused, glancing toward it only to see a polished piece of silver mirror with somebody staring back at him. He leaned a little closer, taking just a moment too long to realize that the person in the reflection was him. His hair had grown, as had his beard and he looked mostly unkempt even after that bath. 

He was thin, ribs showing through his skin, though he still had some strength about him, some tone that would certainly come in handy. He wasn't sure how long he stood there just staring at himself, but it must've been long enough for the prince to decide that he had had enough time to do as he had been told. 

The door opened and before Liam could stop it, he was already looking, his gaze snapping to the prince, meeting with his eyes before Liam could think about what he was doing. And then- to make it worse, he couldn't look away. He was rooted to the spot by the most beautiful creature he had ever laid eyes upon. The prince was perfection, right from the top of his head and the neatly tied back black hair to the tips of those painted toes. 

He had the most gorgeous eyes, the colour of honey and mead, surrounded by the thickest lashes Liam had ever seen on anybody. He wasn't quite clean shaven, but his beard was neatly trimmed close to the skin- that gorgeous olive skin that people of the region normally had. He had soft lips and sharp features that were softened by the expression on his face, a little smile pulling up the corners of his mouth. 

"Well, don't you look better," The prince commented, stepping further into the room.

Liam got his wits about him just in time to drop his gaze to the floor as the prince set some new clothes for him on the counter top just under the mirror. Having his gaze down like that made it so he missed the once over the prince gave him, taking in every detail of his still nude body. 

"I could help you groom if you like," The prince said softly after a moment as he let his gaze slip back up over Liam's thin, toned frame. "Maybe trim that beard a little bit and cut back your hair from your face." 

"I... wouldn't ask that of you," Liam said softly. "There's no need to dirty your hands-"

"Tsk- you wouldn't be asking. I offered- and as far as dirtying my hands goes, you just bathed, didn't you?"

"Yes m'lord, but that was not what I was meaning-"

"I know what it is you meant, and I will not have you thinking that way while under my employ. You're the personal guard of a prince- have some pride in yourself."

Liam hung his head with the chastisement, wringing his hands together lightly in front of himself. "I'm sorry, m'lord."

"Don't apologize. Sit." 

Liam followed the direction, dragging out a stool from under the counter top to perch on top of it, his hands folded together in his lap. The prince didn't say another word, he just began going through one of the drawers, taking out a pair of scissors and a small comb that he held in one of those delicate hands. Liam closed his eyes as he felt soft fingertips just under his jaw, pressing to make him tilt his head up.

The prince was gentle as he combed out Liam's beard for a few long moments before Liam heard the gentle singing of metal as the scissors were opened and the prince made quick work of trimming down his beard, using the comb to keep a basic length all the way around. The same was done with his hair. It was combed out and cut off until it was neat and tidy- and not a word was said between them. Liam trusted that the prince would have his own idea of how he wanted his personal guard to look, so he didn't voice any of his concerns. 

After it was all over and Liam was allowed to stand to brush off the remaining hair that clung lightly to him, he couldn't help but catch sight of himself in the mirror. He looked... _good_. His beard had been trimmed back, not as short as the prince's, but certainly shorter than it had been earlier. His hair was also styled in a way, pushed back from his face and less than a few inches long now. He could almost pass for nobility with how good of a job the prince had done- almost. 

"Get dressed now. Dinner will be served shortly." 

Just the mere mention of food had Liam's mouth already watering. Even if all he was given was his usual bread and watery soup, he would be happy just to have something to eat tonight. As the prince left the room, Liam dressed quickly, tugging on the tunic shirt and the hardened leather leggings that he had been given. Nothing quite fit right, hanging a little bit off of his slim frame, but anything was better than the potato sack clothes he had been wearing before so he was more than happy with this. 

He exited the bathing room just as there was a knock on rhe bedroom door and he stopped in his tracks. The prince however just called for whoever it was to enter and the door swung open. Two servants crossed the room wordlessly, laying a couple of covered silver trays on the dresser along with a pitcher of some sort of beverage and some silver cups. They left just as silently as they had come in, and Liam was left standing there with a growling stomach and an eye only for those trays. 

"Come, Liam," The prince said, gesturing him closer as he slipped off the bed to pad over to their dinner. 

He crossed the room automatically, coming to a stop just by the prince's side, looking over the food on the first uncovered tray. It was a beautiful display. Grilled chicken and vegetables, fruit and beautifully baked bread that looked as soft as could be. Liam was sure this particular tray was only for the prince- it had to be considering how divine the food was. 

The prince was reaching for the other tray though, and Liam was ready to be a little disappointed as the cover was taken off of it- but instead of having a bowl of soup or some old moldy bread, the entire platter was lined with cheeses and meats. The prince plucked one of the pieces of cheese from the platter, popping it into his mouth with a little hum as he grabbed a plate, handing it over to Liam before taking his own. They even had the same silverware, it wasn't just a wooden bowl and spoon that Liam was given. He was allowed a silver plate the same as the prince's and a silver fork to eat with. 

The prince picked through the food there, grabbing this and that, filling his plate generously before he stepped to the side. "Help yourself," He said as he turned away. 

"To what, m'lord?"

"To anything you want," The prince said with a little laugh and a shake of his head. "Take as much as you want- just don't make yourself sick." 

Liam didn't need to be told again. He reached to begin taking a bit of everything, wanting to try absolutely anything he could whether he thought he would like it or not. He piled his own plate up generously, turning to find someplace to sit, though there was nowhere besides the bed and the seats in the bathing room. He decided the best course of action would be to just sit on the floor, but before he could, the prince's voice grabbed his attention. 

"Liam, would you get me drink?" 

He was setting down his own plate and reaching for the cups and pitcher before he could really comprehend, pouring a glass of what he realized was mead for the prince. He brought it to him, holding it out for one of those delicate hands to take. "And have some for yourself as well." 

Again, Liam didn't need to be told twice. He hadn't had mead since he had been in the Holy Order, and he most certainly wanted to give it a try now. He poured himself a cup and grabbed his plate, crossing a few feet to take a seat on one of the pillows on his bed roll, crossing his legs under himself so he could set his plate in his lap. He was quiet as he ate, trying to enjoy the flavours while also sort of gorging himself with food. 

If the prince was bothered by the display, he didn't say anything about it, though he was watching Liam. It was obvious just how much he had been abused. He was covered in scars and bruises, thick swathes of them making most of the surface of his back a light pinkish colour thanks to the healing wounds- or a stark white if they were already healed over the years. Some spots were yellowed, or black and blue from beatings- but soon that would all fade. Soon, Liam would be whole again and he would hopefully gain back that confidence he used to have. 

The two of them ate in silence until both had finished as much as they could, then the dishes were piled onto the nearly empty trays, ready to be taken away by the servants in the morning. The prince padded across the room, pausing just by his bedside and Liam couldn't help but chance a glance to see what he was up to. 

A blush immediately flared across his face as he realised that the prince was undressing for bed, all that pretty skin bared to Liam's gaze. He looked away though, forcing himself to focus on the floor as he crossed to his bed roll. He tugged off his shirt, folding it up and laying it off to one side just as he heard the sound of fabric shifting as the prince climbed into his bed. 

"Goodnight Liam. Try to sleep well, we have much to do tomorrow." 

"Goodnight m'lord," Liam replied softly as he tugged his blanket up over himself, lying back onto those gloriously comfortable pillows. 

Just before he closed his eyes and succumbed to sleep, he heard just one more word spoken from the prince, a soft, though sure proclamation of his name. "Zayn."


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have so many different things in the making right now!! Sorry this took a while, but here's chapter two! I hope you enjoy it ^-^

As promised, the morning had been quite busy. After the prince had awoken, he had taken to the bathing room to wash and change his clothes, leaving Liam to straighten up the room and neatly put everything away. They had had breakfast together, a simple meal of fresh fruits and some porridge that was unlike any other oatmeal Liam had had before. It wasn't mush, nor was it tasteless, it had been prepared perfectly and Liam found himself going back for a second helping- with the prince's leave of course. 

Once all of that had finished and the servants had come by to collect the dishes, the prince had stood, quietly gesturing for Liam to follow him. "We'll get you fitted for some armour this morning," He explained as Liam padded after him down the hallway. "And then I'll take you out to the gardens and we'll begin your swordsmanship training."

"Yes, m'lord."

Liam just followed after the prince, walking toward the other side of the palace, passing by all those richly decorated rooms, their pace giving him but a fleeting moment to try to catch a glimpse of anything else that might be in this palace. Guards stood stationed at seemingly random parts of the palace, and each of them paused in what they were doing, standing straight and with dignity when the crowned prince passed by. Liam tried to emulate, lifting his head a little bit, trying to straighten out his posture. 

Zayn had said that he should have some pride in himself after all, and Liam supposed he should start working on that now. It was going to be difficult to ignore every one of the warning bells that went off in his head whenever he so much as lifted his eyes from the floor, but it needed to be done. He wouldn't be much of a personal guard if he couldn't see what was coming. 

It took a few long minutes for them to reach the palace armoury, and the moment they stepped inside there was a flurry of movement as people seemingly scattered to do their jobs while the prince was in the room with them. He just huffed out a little sigh, not even commenting as he led Liam across the room to the armourer. 

"You have the platemail ready by now, I assume."

"We do, my prince," The armourer promised, gesturing toward a table where each of the individual pieces were laid out. "Ready to be custom fitted to your champion- whenever he gets here." 

"He already stands before you," Zayn said, stepping to the side a bit so Liam could step up next to him. 

"An apostate! I can't-"

"You can, and you will," The prince said, leaving no room for argument. "I'll be here the entire time- so do not think it would go unnoticed if you were to cause my personal guardsman any injury... or offense."

The words hung heavy in the air between them before the blacksmith finally nodded, knowing he wouldn't be able to deny such a straightforward order from the crowned prince himself. He wasn't at all gentle as he pushed Liam toward a raised platform, telling him to stand still there and wait for his armour to be fitted. 

Hands pulled at him, making him shuck off his shirt before a set of chainmail was pulled over his head and straightened out across his shoulders with a few rough tugs. He just stood still as instructed, averting his gaze each time somebody looked his way- he was still curious though, about what they were doing and where Zayn was. 

He kept an eye on the prince, tilting his head up as the chest piece of his armour was settled in place and roughly buckled around his waist, tugging the two pieces of the cuirass together around him snugly. "How does it fit?"

The question was asked in the most off putting way, as if it disgusted the blacksmith to be within arms reach of Liam. His tone was clipped and he spoke the words quickly, as if to get this over with sooner. 

"I-It's uh... is it supposed to be a close fit?"

"Just with enough space to breathe." Again, the answer was short and to the point- which Liam took gracefully. 

"It fits fine, I can adjust it accordingly." 

The blacksmith didn't bother to answer as he crossed back toward the workbench to fine tune a set of pauldrons which he promptly brought back over to Liam. They were fitted over his shoulders, attaching to the cuirass with a leather strap that was seated just under the plate steel of the chest piece, while another strap was wrapped loosely around his bicep. The process was repeated on Liam's left side, though this pauldron was slightly heavier than the other, being made out of a thicker steel that could withstand a glancing blow off a shield. 

Liam took the weight easily, pulling on the greaves and adjusting them for himself, not willing to make the armourer get quite that close to him. He was not provided with the set of steel boots by the workbench, instead he was given a pair of soft leather ones with steel shin plates- which he honestly would have preferred if only because they would be more comfortable. His gauntlets as well, were removed from the collection and placed off to the side. The binding irons and the chainmail would just have to do. 

He was provided with a shield with a rather important looking crest on it (one that didn't appear on other guard's shields) and a sword with a jewelled scabbard that was also engraved with the same crest. He strapped the sword belt around his waist, slinging it low where it sat most comfortably before slipped his arm through the leather bands of the kite style shield, hefting the weight of it off the floor. He settled into the armour easily, not even noticing the blacksmith walk away as he fiddled lightly with some of the straps, loosening a few of them off a bit. 

The sound of approaching bare feet made him pause though and he stood straight as Zayn came into his view. He tried to show some semblance of pride in his new set of platemail with the mark of the crowned prince upon his equipment, and the smile he was greeted with showed that Zayn was pleased with the effort. 

"Wonderful," The prince said as he drew near. "You are the perfect image of a warrior if I have ever seen one. Are you ready to test your arm?" 

"Of course m'lord," Liam said with a little bow at the waist. "It's an honour to have you teach me."

The blacksmith ignored the pair as the prince turned to leave, just shaking his head and mumbling about apostates and heretics under his breath. If Zayn heard, he ignored it, walking out of the room with Liam on his heels, intent on teaching him what he needed to know. 

Zayn was decent with a sword himself, enough that he was confident he could show Liam a thing or two, but with practise and training the mage would easily surpass him. The prince was already counting on this, trusting that Liam would take this seriously. 

They reached the gardens just past the forge outside the smithy, padding across the trimmed grass toward a nice open space near the back. Once they reached the area, the prince gestured for Liam to stand opposite him. 

"I'll teach you what I know, and then it's up to you to hone your skills until you are everything I could need in a warrior companion," He said, reaching to push his robe back and out of the way, withdrawing a thin sabre from a scabbard hidden between the folds of clothing. "I would not ask you to go easy on me, but do be careful not to injure me- a pretty face is about all I have." 

It was supposed to be a joke, Liam knew this, but he couldn't help but think that the prince was anything but just a pretty face. He could easily have more knowledge and talent than Liam himself possessed, in books and education in particular. Liam had learned to write, and learned to read, but that had been years ago, when he was still housed at the church as a Mage of the Holy Order. The prince would be well versed in such things, and he had most likely had training with a weapon at some point in his life as well. 

Liam shifted the weight of his shield toward the crook of his arm, reaching with his right hand to withdraw the sword at his side, testing it lightly in his grip. 

"When you're ready," Zayn said, shifting into an offensive posture. 

Letting out a little breath, Liam nodded, watching Zayn's first move. The prince was quick and barely made a sound thanks to the bare feet, but Liam managed to fend off each well aimed strike- all but one. 

The shriek of metal rang out as their swords clashed and with a flick of his wrist, Zayn had disarmed Liam, ripping the sword from his grip. It landed somewhere off to the side with a dull thud as it hit the grass. Quietly, the two of them regarded each other, trying to catch their breath as the prince stepped back and sheathed his sabre at his side once more. 

"Not bad," He said with a smile, seeming pleased with Liam's performance. "I can tell you're unpractised, but I'm sure you'll get better with it. You have good form."

Liam nodded, padding over to pick up his sword from the grass where it had landed, holding it with one lax hand. He was honestly surprised with the skill that Zayn had, wondering just why he needed a personal guard when he was obviously more than prepared to defend himself should the need arise. He didn't question it though, not wanting to look the gift horse in the mouth.

Being invited to live in the palace and partake in all the luxury of it was enough make Liam keep his mouth shut. If Zayn wanted him here for some particular reason, Liam would never question it, not when there was a good chance that doing so would have him thrown out before he knew what hit him. 

"Let me show you some proper steps." 

Liam wasn't sure what to expect from that, but the prince stepped up behind him, one of those delicate hands wrapping around his right wrist to make him lift the sword. He was shown a few little flourishes and the steps to use them, Zayn's hands gentle on him and their bodies pressed entirely too close together through the moves. He couldn't bring himself to pull away though. 

Part of him worried that if he did move, the prince would be offended in some way- though the rest of him wasn't bothered at all by that, there was a close comfort to be enjoyed and he wasn't about to deny it. Soon enough though, Zayn was letting go of him to step back, quietly deciding that was enough for now. 

"We'll continue later," He said. "There are some other things that will require my attention- and sometime this afternoon we'll take to the market. You'll need clothes."

Liam didn't question the prince, just sheathed his blade at his hip with a nod. "Of course m'lord."

He was ready to follow Zayn just about anywhere by this point, already enamoured with the soft way the prince treated him and the luxurious lifestyle that he had suddenly been dropped into. He felt like he had everything as long as he was here, soft pillows and proper food, a bath whenever he needed it. Best of all, the prince was always so soft spoken and gentle, treating him with respect and humility- like he was worth something. This was the absolute best life Liam had ever lived and there was no way he was about to let it slip out of his hands. 

Zayn stepped away, gesturing for him and Liam automatically followed the prince back through the plush garden toward the palace. He found it easier to carry himself with a little more pride this time, something about the weight of the armour and Zayn's easy praise from earlier making him somewhat more comfortable. He could notice the looks now though, the way that people's eyes followed him as if they didn't trust him to be within their presence. 

It didn't seem to matter as much to him as it would have at one time though. If being a mage was so intimidating to people that they couldn't take their eyes off of him, then perhaps he could use that against anybody that would threaten the new life he was settling so easily into. He kept his right hand lightly rested atop the pommel of his sword, his thumb stroking absently over one of the smooth jewels set into the metal as he walked just a few paces behind the prince. 

They passed a few rooms that he recognized as being close to where the prince's chambers were, but they made a turn down a hall that Liam wasn't acquainted with, heading in a different direction altogether. He wasn't sure where they were going, or what would be on the schedule for today, but he didn't bother asking. He hoped his presence wouldn't disrupt anything important though- he would never want to be that sort of burden on Zayn. Based on the way the armourer had acted, there was a high chance that others would think just as derogatory things and might make a fuss over having him there. He just really hoped that Zayn wouldn't find it all too bothersome to deal with and kick him out. 

He just followed after the prince quietly, noticing the walls become higher and more brightly decorated as they continued on. They were heading toward the front of the palace as far as Liam could tell, though he didn't have time to wonder over it much more before Zayn was pushing open a large door to walk through. Liam wasn't sure if he should pause to close the door behind them, but he didn't have to worry over it for long. A couple of guards that were standing by the doorway reached to push it closed and Liam had no choice but to just fall into step behind Zayn once again.

**Author's Note:**

> Please, please comment and let me know what you think!!


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